


It's Called Hell

by Charlie_Harrison1806



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 03:51:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 9,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_Harrison1806/pseuds/Charlie_Harrison1806
Summary: Trapped in your childhood home by your brother. You are forced to talk about the one choice you made. The one choice that will inevitably lead to your heart breaking as you chose. Either your boyfriend or your brother?





	1. Staying Alive is Just...Staying

I was walking through the hall. The same hall that leads to either my death or my dinner. "(Y/N)!" I turned in fear. When I turned around I saw my brother. His face just inches from mine.  
"Yes brother?" I was amazed by the steadiness of my voice. I looked in his eyes and recognised the love-hate look that filled his eyes.  
"You forgot to tell me what I needed to know." I knew exactly what he meant, but I couldn't tell him of the truth.  
"I did the mission as you asked. What more do you want?"  
"Well, little sister, I did ask you to let me know the details of your intrusion. So, tell me."  
"I did what I did. What you asked is what I did. Every word, every movement as you asked." I saw my brothers face contort.  
"I know that's not true. Tell me what you did?" he grabbed my arm and dragged me. Dragging me down the hall, the room at the very end had it's metal door standing in between the lit torches. I know what's in there. I don't want to be in there. Anywhere but there. The metal door opens under my brothers hand. There is my boyfriend. Beaten and bruised. His hands tied behind the chair that he is tied to and his ankles tied to the legs of the chair. "Please...no..." My words were quieter than a whisper. I heard his hoarse and broken voice and coagulated blood fell out of his mouth as he spoke. "(Y/N)..." I feel my heart break. This is my fault. He is like this because of me. "Now, (Y/N). Tell me, what happened. on. the. case!" His hissing became a yell that dripped heavily with the venom of his words. "Let him go. I will tell you anything you want. I will do whatever you tell me to do, just please let him go." I saw the pondering look in my brothers eyes. It was one of pure mockery. "No. You will tell me and then I will let him go." I sigh. I know that he will. I can trust him that far. "Fine. Where do you want me to start?"  
"The day I gave you that order."  
"Okay. You gave me my orders. And I went in..."


	2. Day 1

"My orders were to take out a target. But first I had to find out some information that my target's friend knew. You already know that. The thing that you never told me though was how much my targets would know about me. Or rather the lack of." looking at the ground as my brother tied my hands behind the back of my chair.  
It hurt. He never knew why I was doing what I was doing. My boyfriend not my brother. Now he is going to hear everything I was thinking, everything I was feeling. Every moment that occurred to me from the day before I met him until today.  
"So. I ordered you to get said info and kill him. So?"  
I looked up to my brother as he was sitting right in front of me now. Next to him was my boyfriend battered and bruised. "Well..."  
\------  
4 months earlier  
\------  
"Ah. There you are (Y/N)"  
"Brother dear. You need something of me?"  
"As a matter of fact I doooo." His Irish accent, more obvious than mine, sounded melodic as he did his unique sing song voice.   
"Alright then. What is it this time?" He handed me a file. Upon opening it I saw a face. I felt my heart skip a beat. Why did my heart just alternate it's usual beating pattern? I skimmed the info.  
"All you need to do is kill him. First you need to find out the information in the list at the back of the file on the other one. Can you do that for me (Y/N)?"  
"I can if you promise to stop using my full name."  
"Sounds fair (N/N)." Smiling I turned heel and went to my room. The heavy oak door screeched as it opened releasing some of the intriguing rotten wood smell.  
I open the file while sitting cross legged on my bed. There's the list. I grabbed the list and started to read through.  
\- close links i.e. family, friends, etc.  
\- weaknesses/pressure points  
\- kind of things to use as persuasion  
\- fears  
"Okay then. I guess you really don't like him."  
"No I don't."  
"AHHH!" I fell off my bed and landed with a resounding thud on the she-oak floor.  
"Jim you asshole. Don't scare me like that."  
"Sorry sis. I thought you might like a little present for when you go into London tomorrow." James walks over and gives me something small in the palm of my hand. He turned and walked out leaving me alone. Looking into my hand I saw a ring. Silver with small diamonds alternating with blue sapphires along two strips.   
Attached was a little note.  
Your rouse is your fiance has gone missing. JM.  
That'll be an entertaining act. Love you too brother.  
I cleaned up the mess of the file. Picking up pictures, notes, articles, all sorts of things. My brother only ever goes this deep into information if he is desperate. I kept thinking as I let my iedetic memory retain all of the information.  
Kill the short one, info from the tall one. Can't be that hard can it?  
Grabbing my normal bag I packed up some clothes and toiletries. Not too much but enough to last as long as I need. I look at every bit of clothing I grab.  
Long sleeved shirts - hiding something  
Jeans - comfortable but too dressy  
Track pants - comfortable and very good if you're having a bad time  
Tank tops - confident  
Shirts - casual  
Okay then. Long sleeved shirts and track pants. "Why the long sleeved shirts (Y/N)?"  
"do you ever leave my room or let me leave without turning up just minutes later, brother dear?"  
"Of course not. I wouldn't be a very good brother otherwise. Explain though. Why that choice of clothing? OMG! you're not taking any of those scary undergarments you have?" James quickly came over to you putting a hand on your fore head feeling for a temperature.  
You laughed before grabbing out the black, lacey underwear that hid pretty much nothing from your underwear drawer. "You mean these?" he instantly held up both index fingers in the form of the Christian cross. "Yeah. Those." you both laughed before returning them. "Be glad I am in a cheerie mood because otherwise that cross wouldn't have helped."  
"What about the Pagan pentacle?"  
"Maybe."  
"Buddha?"  
"No."  
"(Favourite actor) dressed as (favourite character)?"  
"Most definitely." you both laughed before he took his leave so you could prepare for tomorrow.


	3. Playing The Lie

"So what the hell happened next?!" You flinched away from your brother as he angrily yelled the last three words in your face.  
"Well, i-i, um," stopping to regain your composure you took a glance at Sherlock who was looking at you with pain in his eyes. Unable to keep your eyes on him you looked at the floor. "I went to London...  
\------  
The day you met Sherlock  
\------  
You didn't sleep all night. You did anything you could think of that would make you exhausted physically and mentally. At 7 am you got changed out of your boxing gear and into some clothes that you stereotyped as that of a distressed finance. Putting on no make up you worked on making your eyes bloodshot and swollen as though you have been crying. Pleased with yourself you went to 221B Baker Street. You forced yourself to shake and cry. To seem sad, desperate and distressed.  
Pressing the door bell, a man opened the door. He was about 5 foot 6 inches maybe taller, with blonde hair that was graying. You studied his dulling tan and the way he helled himself to that of someone being in Afghanistan as a soldier. The way he checked your eyes as he saw you told you he was a doctor. "Come in. I'm John." he helped you up the stairs to the apartment where the man from the photo sat down in a leather chair with a violin on his lap.  
John motioned to a chair and you sat in it. Never braking from character. "Let me take a guess," you turned 'surprised' to the man you recognised as Sherlock Holmes. "Your fiance went missing three days ago and you are worried sick. However, the police wouldn't help because you have no proof he is missing. You grew up together and were very close from an early a-"  
"Sherlock, shut it." John was trying to get Sherlock to stop making the deductions that you wanted him to make. All nervousness from before were gone. I'm good enough to deceive Sherlock Holmes. You started to stutter as you spoke. "H-How did you know?"  
"I'm clever like that. You wear a ring on your left hand but it is new because you keep twisting it. Expensive, so it's an engagement ring. You look beyond exhausted so close relationship the sheer expense of the ring shows an extremely close relationship and it must be an old relationship at least 20 years. You are 28 maybe 29 so young children when you became frien-"  
"Sherlock!" John again trying to get Sherlock to shut up. You were getting very proud of yourself.  
"You're right. The police wouldn't help me because there is no evidence. Lawson proposed the day he went missing. I'm worried and scared. He always mentioned a man. A man that would help him when he needed. For the love of Boaan, I hope Lawson is okay."  
At the mention of a man made both men looked at you wide eyed. "What was the man's name? Your fiance would have said it at some point." You internally smiled.  
"I don't know. I don't think he ever did." Sherlock looked like he would kill you if he had a chance.  
"Of course he would have. Now focus your impudent and pathetic little mind and remember the name." you looked to John hoping that, that is what people would do if they were treated this way. The apologetic look from John confirmed you to be right. "um...i-I don't know. Um." Sherlock looked down seemingly annoyed that you 'didn't know the name.' gotta keep you guessing. "Wait. I do remember a name." Sherlock looked directly at you. "Only one and I don't think it could be a real name but it might be some help."  
"Tell me." The demanding tome in his voice made it so much harder not to smile.  
"Moriarty."


	4. Working It Out

Both men stared as I sat there trying really hard not to smile. Can’t smile. Mustn’t smile. Fuck. I smiled. Unable to hold in the smile from their reaction the whole alibi/ rouse failed. I let down the mourning fiancé and now looked like myself. An assassin that knows Jim Moriarty. “Who are you really? I can see the lie now but I couldn’t before. Why couldn’t I see it?”  
“Because, Sherlock, part of what I do is make people think whatever I want. From angry mother to desperate fiancé,” I removed the make-up and contacts from my eyes showing what I truly looked like. It was much better to be myself. “I can do any of it and convince anyone. I admit that you work out my lies quicker than your brother but you still took until I broke character to find out.” Dropping the fake English accent as I spoke got both men standing. John with a gun aimed at my chest, Sherlock’s aimed at my head.  
“I’ll ask one more time. Who are you?”  
“(Y/N). (Y/N) Moriarty. Younger sister of the consulting criminal James Moriarty and so pissed off with her older brother that she came to 221B Baker Street for help from his arch enemy.” I smiled politely and stuck to that character. Admittedly it wasn’t hard to do.  
“We can’t trust you.”  
“You’re right, you can’t. That’s why I did the whole ‘desperate girlfriend’ act. So I could get in here to ask for your help. Ask Mycroft. He knows just how much I hate my brother.” Sherlock lowered his gun before calling Mycroft with his phone on speaker.  
“Hello brother mine. To what do I owe this call?”  
“Hey My-My. How are you?” Sherlock and John stared at me due to my reaction and nickname for the elder Holmes brother.  
“Sherlock. Please tell me you aren’t with her?” Mycroft sounded desperate.  
“What happened? You always loved the nickname. Especially when-“  
“What is it that you want?” He was so quick that there was obviously something that he didn't want Sherlock to know. PRESSURE POINT!!!  
“She claims that you know her hatred for her brother.” Sherlock was calm but never moved his gaze from me. While Mycroft answered his question I moved my shirt so that he could see ample of my cleavage. He and John immediately blushed and looked to the phone.  
“Well she is correct. It’s because of that hatred that we knew about him to begin with. She also told us where to find him so we could interrogate him to find out his plans against you. We never did however.”  
“So she hates her brother to the point that she is willing to hand him over and possibly get him killed in doing so?” John seemed incredulous to what he was being told.  
“I loathe my brother. Seriously. He was more abusive than our father when he was drunk. Still is. Admittedly it was funny when Jim killed our dad because he tried to punch me. That was funny.”  
“Are you sadistic?” Sherlock looked curious as though he hadn’t met a sadist before.  
“I am a sadistic sociopath, yes.”  
"If only. You are a bit more than sadistic but there is no word for your...choices." The phone call cut off and then the devil walked into the apartment. "Do you ever leave England, (Y/N)?" Mycroft looked so annoyed.  
"Yeah. When I'm killing someone overseas."  
"If you hate your brother so much why do you work for him?"  
"Just cause I hate him doesn't mean he isn't my brother. I just really don't care if he dies or not." I was getting hot in the long sleeved shirt and decided to make it as awkward as I could for the two Holmes brothers. Removing my shirt all three men blushed and turned away. John turned so he was not facing me in the slightest. Mycroft and Sherlock were looking out of the corner of their eyes.  
"Cute boys. I like John most. He has the most respect for a woman with no shirt on." Feeling like the Holmes boys weren't embarrassed enough, I bent over and removed my jeans so I was now standing in the black laced underwear that my brother was scared of. Both Holmes Boys went truly red and made sure they weren't even in the same room as me. "Good boys."


	5. So...What Now?

Still sitting in my underwear on the couch in 221B, both Holmes brothers spoke with determination and a slight amount of fear. "We can't trust her." Mycroft was all for getting me locked up.  
"Yet she could be helpful Mycroft." Sherlock wanted me to stay so he could do some experiments.  
"You two both realise she is in the room. Right there." John pointed to me. I smiled and waved. The three men looked at me as if I were a random person with two heads.  
"Don't mind me. I am quite content listening in to your conversation and working out who's winning."  
"Why does that matter to you?" The extent of the death glare from Mycroft made me smile.  
"Well. If you win, Mycroft, I will kill all three of you and remain a happy little vegemite until I have to go back to my brother's place and then I will be a very sore little vegemite. If Sherlock wins, however, I will tell him anything he wants to know about me, my brother, anyone that works for my brother and even, anyone I have ever had the misfortune of helping in the criminal world." I smiled.  
"Do you swear to that?" Sherlock was now looking between Mycroft and I.  
"I swear on my favourite knives and the worlds gnocchi and chocolate supply."  
"Seriously? That's what you're swearing on?"  
"I have an extremely painful menstrual cycle. I live on gnocchi and chocolate during that time and I am an assassin who is known for cutting up my victims and sending the different body parts to people all over the world. So yes. That is what I'm swearing on."  
"Wait," Everyone turned to look at John who was sitting on the couch next to me with wide eyes staring. "Are you Riva? The assassin who kills anyone friend or foe. Known mostly for the eerie speed and agility to take down victims."  
"Oh. I have a fan." Clapping my hands quickly and smiling like a giddy teenager who had just met her biggest idol who had then proceeded to ask her out.  
"You are kidding me. Mycroft, Riva is Moriarty's little sister?" John was talking disbelievingly to the oldest Holmes Brother. Sherlock just continued to stare at me as if studying me.  
"Oi. He's only four minutes older."  
"Sherlock. You can keep her and do whatever. However, if I need information you will obtain it and then let me know. You will also have to keep her happy for 1 week a month or you will find that she paints this entire apartment red with your blood. Good luck." Mycroft grabbed his umbrella and left the apartment.  
"What's he up to now?"  
"Well, Sherlock. Knowing James, he is probably trying to find where I have run off to and will probably be planning on coming here to ask you if you have met me. By me, I mean he will ask if you've met his favourite toy." I smiled at Sherlock who smiled back. There was a look of smoothing in his eyes. As soon as it was there though it was gone.  
I glanced around the room and spoke to John for a bit. John is very nice. I don't think I'll be able to kill him. Looking back at Sherlock, I could see the look much clearer now. The look of awe and admiration. John got up excusing himself as he left to go to his date.  
"Do you always stare at your experiments with such awe and admiration?" I looked at him after John left. His cheeks became slightly dusted with pink.  
"No. Just the really intriguing ones." That sent a slight warmth up my neck.  
"Would you like to do an experiment with me?"  
"What kind?"  
"Saliva coagulation and bruising after death?"  
"Count me in." Smiling we went into the kitchen and started playing with the severed head. As the temperature started to go down with the sun I started to shiver. "Here." Sherlock grabbed his trench coat before putting it around my shoulders. This is going to be hard.


	6. Leader, Loner, Lover

“So they show you a small amount of kindness and then you don’t do as your asked?!” James was pacing now. That’s not good. “You…lied…me?” Sherlock’s voice was breaking and that broke my heart. James turned to face the curly haired man.  
“Oh, has someone decided that they are going to talk now? How joyful.” James clapped his hands with a resounding thud. “Sherlock. Sherrrrlock.” James walked over to Sherlock and punched him in the face knocking the chair over in the process. “Now. Little sister, why did you not do what you were told?” James wiped his nose with the back of his hand. I continued to stare at Sherlock. As I looked into his blue eyes I couldn’t help but cry the slightest bit.  
“Let him go James.” James leant down so his face was centimetres from mine.  
“No. Where would the fun be if I couldn’t torture him and you without having to hurt you both?” His laugh was evil and horrifying. “Now. I think I have heard enough of the distant past. When did you get with my little sister?” James was pointing a knife at Sherlock.  
“James! Leave him alone!” He turned to face me with a sinister smile on his face. He walked agonizingly slowly over to me. As I was about to say something, he brought the knife down hard on my thigh. “AHHH!” The pain licked up my leg and into my body as tears stung my eyes.  
“You will NOT talk unless you are spoken to.” I whimpered slightly as the pain started to subside. “Now. When did you two get together?”  
2 Months ago  
“What are you doing Sherlock?” I walked over to Sherlock who was studying something under the microscope.  
“Trying to identify any chemicals that could suggest that this person was murdered.” His voice was monotone as he spoke not looking up from the microscope. Sighing, I went back into the living room and collapsed into Sherlock’s chair.  
I closed my eyes in hope of thinking a little bit clearer. I have to kill a friend and hurt the other to get information for my annoyingly painful brother. I wonder if I could just help Sherlock and stay here. Not ever have to go back to my brother.  
“I don’t see why you couldn’t stay here and not go back to your brother but I don’t think you would be able to help me.”  
“Shit. Did I say that out loud?” I was freaking out that he had heard the start of my thoughts.  
“You said, and I quote, ‘I wonder if I could just help Sherlock and stay here. Not ever have to go back to my brother’.” I smiled knowing that he hadn’t heard the start.  
“And why do you think I wouldn’t be able to help you?” I was trying to be posh but it was harder than it looked.  
“Because you are a distraction.”  
“A nice distraction?”  
“I don’t think so. Especially since you rarely wear any clothes other than your underwear.”  
“What’s wrong with that? If I am going to try and be good then I want to be comfortable. Clothes are only a barrier.” I winked at Sherlock.  
“Oh my god. What did I just walk into?” I turned to see John with a blonde on his arm. I recognised her just as quickly as she recognised me.  
“Sorry about her. She rarely wears clothes.” John was trying to apologise to his girlfriend.  
“So nothing has changed then. (Y/N).” She nodded her head towards me and I back to her.  
“You two know each other?” Sherlock and John were looking between the two of us.  
“Yeah. Am I not allowed a social life?” John and Rosemond left through the door heading up to John’s room. “It’s not that. I just, don’t worry.”  
“Are you hormonal there Sherlock?” I was curious but was actually teasing the poor man.  
“NO!”  
“Too quick to answer and way too defensive. You are hormonal. But who towards? It is either one of three people. Myself, John or…”  
“His new girlfriend. Yeah I know who it could be, you don’t need to know though.”  
“Oh but I do. So I can kill the person if it’s not me.” I smiled genuinely. I looked over towards the detective to see that he had moved and was now crouched right next to me.  
“Are you serious?” There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes and a desperate tone to his voice.  
“Of course I’m bloody serious. I have been flirting like crazy with you. Why wouldn’t I be serious?”  
“Because I didn’t realise you had been flirting.” I face palmed myself laughing.  
“Of course you didn’t.” I turned my head to look back to the detective but got a kiss. I moved a hand to cup his face as he moved to be over the top of me even though I was still in his chair.


	7. Chemical Defects

I watch Sherlock as he moves a slide around on his microscope. He was smiling and was genuinely happy at what was going on in his life. I won’t hurt him. I can’t hurt him. I love him. John walked into the kitchen and saw the happy Sherlock. “What happened? Serial killer? Mass Murder?” John was used to this side of Sherlock when he had a case.  
“None of the above. I don’t have any cases at the moment.” John dropped his cup of freshly made hot coffee. Before it hit the floor I had caught it but burnt my hand with the coffee that spilled over the rim of the cup.  
“Why the hell are you smiling then?” John hadn’t noticed me burn myself and neither had Sherlock. Good. I placed the cup on the bench and quickly left back to steal Sherlock’s seat.  
“Am I not allowed to be happy, John?”  
“I’ve just never seen you smile like that before. Not without a case anyway.” John turned to grab his coffee. “What the hell happened to my coffee?!” Sherlock sighed as John looked into the half empty mug.  
“You dropped it and (Y/N) caught it and then put it there before leaving to sit in my seat. Again.” I smiled innocently as Sherlock glared at me, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.  
“Show me your hands.” John had walked in to the living room and was now standing in front of me.  
“No.”  
“(Y/N), you caught a cup of hot coffee with now less than half of it left. There is also no coffee on the floor. You’ve burnt your hands. John just wants to see how bad it is.” I stared at Sherlock. How can I be expected to go through with this? I pulled my hands out from behind my back to reveal the third degree burn on my dominant hand. John scurried away to get some things to help me.  
“Sherlock?”  
“Mm?”  
“Are you scared of anything?” Sherlock looked away from his microscope. He looked at me carefully studying every part of my body. “Why?”  
“I was curious. Also it’s Halloween tomorrow so I thought it would be good if we put something scary up. Something that would scare everyone, even you.” I smiled pleasantly hoping that it covered my fear. He sighed and walked over to me as John came out of the bathroom with a red first aid kit.  
“Sit up.” I did as John said while Sherlock studied my injury.  
“Are you scared of burning alive?” Oh, how far from the truth.  
“No. I’m scared of (biggest fear).” John tensed as I said my fear.  
“I think you are not the only one (Y/N).” Sherlock and I laughed at the army doctor, who was now cussing under his breath at the both of us. “I would say that I am scared that, if I were allow emotions in that, the person or persons my emotions are directed at will get hurt or end up dead.” I felt my heart crumble. Sherlock was looking me dead in the eye as he said it. He cares about me.  
“There you go. Leave that on for a couple of days and then we will change it.” John stood up and cleaned the mess he had made.  
“Did you mean it?” I was scared to ask Sherlock.  
“I did.”  
“Why?” John walked back in to see Sherlock crouched in front of me. He could see and hear every word.  
“Because, I love you.” Sherlock leant up and kissed my lips lightly. The feeling lingered after he moved away, breaking the kiss. I could feel the warmth rushing over my cheeks. “I love you too.” I smiled knowing that I had finally found someone that I would die for. I probably will too.  
“YOU LOVE SOMEONE?!” Sherlock turned quickly to see John standing just a metre behind him. Then Lestrade was in the doorway after hearing John followed closely by Mycroft.  
“Oh,- I- Why is she not wearing clothes?” Lestrade covered his eyes as soon as he saw me sitting in a midnight purple bra with black lace and matching panties.  
“What is going on?” Sherlock looked like a deer in headlights. I could see his habit going a hundred miles an hour. He wanted a cigarette. I stood up and grabbed his hand stopping his nervous habit for the moment.  
“Get away from my brother.” Sherlock pulled me closer as Mycroft seethed at me.  
“She is not going anywhere Mycroft.”  
“Love is a chemical defect found on the losing side, brother mine.”  
“As is hate, brother.” Sorry James. I will not betray the man whom I love.


	8. Better Chances With A Machine Gun

“I wonder if Mycroft would help me kill you to traitors?” James was drunk. He was holding half a glass of whiskey and a gun. I had managed to get one hand out of my bonds but kept it where it was to make it look as if I hadn’t moved and couldn’t move. A light snoring came from my brother before ripping into something much louder. I moved my hand to get the knife so I could get Sherlock out of here.  
Limping over, I found Sherlock with his eyes closed. I manoeuvred myself to be behind him. As soon as the cold metal of the knife hit his wrist his eyes flew open to look straight at my chair. I moved the knife cutting the ropes holding his arms. He was still on the floor but now he could move. I moved down to his legs and I could see his eyes looking at me in both a pleading and hurt way.  
Once he was free, I lifted the chair with all the strength left in my body. It was enough for Sherlock to get out of the chair. He moved over to me quickly embracing me in a hug. I couldn’t help but hug back to the now oh so familiar warmth. “We need to get out of here now!” I whispered into his ear with the urgency of the situation getting higher every passing second. Nodding Sherlock grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the doors.  
“Will you tell me what the hell you are playing at?” Sherlock’s voice was not the usual monotone or playful and happy tone or even his loving tone of voice. It was one filled with hate and rage.  
“Not now.”  
“Now! Or I tie you back up and leave you to your brother.”  
“You wouldn’t do that.” He turned and glared at me. I no longer recognised the man in front of me.  
“Yes. I would now tell me.” Not wanting to talk to this new Sherlock, I moved and continued to limp down the hall way. A had roughly grabbed my arm pulling me back and into the cold stone walls of the hall. The silver gleaming knife that was in my belt was now pressed against my throat. “Tell me, please.” His voice was soft and broken. I could feel the pain in my chest that I have had numerous times with this man.  
“I had to keep playing along with my brother’s plan, Sherlock. I couldn’t just stop. I had come up with a plan to do as he asked and comeback with info but not what he was wanting and take him out before he could harm anyone. I asked you not to follow me because I knew what you would see and I knew that you would jump to a conclusion that would eventually end up with this kind of thing to happen.”  
“How much of the last four months was a pantomime?”  
“Only the first few hours. The rest was me. Genuinely me.” I felt the tears sting my eyes as I looked down at the small gap between Sherlock’s and my bodies. “I’m sorry. Come on. Before you get hurt anymore.” Sherlock put the knife into my hand before he leaned down and picked me up so that he was cradling me in his arms.  
“Which way?”  
“Left.” Sherlock continued to carry me down the corridors until we got to the exit of my brother’s mansion.  
“SEBASTIAN!!” My brother’s hate filled voice cut through the house and reverberated off of every wall. “James is up.” I smile sweetly before Sherlock ran out the door still carrying my body.  
“Where?” I looked around to see a forest nearby. I knew of a small cave that could only be found if you were looking for it. “There!” I pointed to the forest and Sherlock headed that way. When we got to the forest edge Sherlock put me down and I led the way to the cave.  
“Where are we going?”  
“There’s a place I know. No one will be able to find us there.” Sherlock said nothing so I turned to see what was wrong. I saw Sebastian with a knife to Sherlock’s throat.  
“That explains.”  
“Evening (Y/N).”  
“Sebastian. Could you please let my boyfriend go?”  
“Not happenin’ sweetheart. I’ve been asked by the boss to bring back two heads.”  
“You already have two heads.” The quick moment of disgust from Sherlock and Sebastian gave me an opportunity to get Sebastian. Throwing the knife that I still held I got Sebastian in the throat. He let Sherlock go who moved away quickly.  
“Nice throw.”  
“Thanks.” Sherlock once again picked me up but said that he would try something.


	9. Not You Again

Sherlock carried me for hours. The forest was now thick with trees and ground covering shrubs. The few times that we had stopped so that Sherlock could rest, he would place me on a fallen tree and help me to clean the wound on my thigh. We were now sitting at the edge of the forest. There were empty roads and very few houses on the outskirts of London.  
“How’s your leg feeling?” I turned to Sherlock as I hadn’t heard his voice since we left my brother’s place.  
“Sore but I should be fine.” Sherlock looked at me with a suspicious gaze. His features softened after a short time to that of empathy.  
“Alright. Let’s get going.” Sherlock grabbed my hands before lightly dragging me behind him over the small thin roads. The few houses were scattered and placed like a child’s drawing. The houses started to get closer together allowing for us to hide between them.  
The sound of an approaching car made Sherlock push me into a small shed on the front of a manicured lawn. I could hear the car pull up with the crunching sound of the road under its tires. Sherlock looked out the slit between the door and the wall of the shed. He opened the door and dragged me out.  
“Why do you still have her around, brother mine?” Mycroft was stood in front of the car facing the shed. We all quickly got in before anyone could see.  
“Because I do.” Sherlock’s view left the window to glower at his brother.  
“We tracked your phone. If we can, rest assured that Moriarty will have done the same thing.” I looked at Sherlock as he looked at me. He was paranoid while I was scared.  
“Ummm. Mycroft.” I looked away from Sherlock and straight to Mycroft. “I know you hate me, but um. Sherlock doesn’t have his phone. Moriarty does.” Mycroft’s untrusting and Sherlock’s paranoid glares were burning holes into my skull as I looked between the two.  
“What do you think he will do then?”  
“Are you, trusting…me?” Mycroft nodded his head reluctantly as I looked at him in shock and suspicion.  
“I would say that he will follow us and try to kill Sherlock since that’s all James went on about. Killing Sherlock.” At that moment the black window cutting the cabin of the car off from us started to go down and one of the men in the front spoke out. “Sir, your brother’s phone is following us.”  
“Called it.” I threw my hands up in victory.  
“That’s not a good thing (Y/N)!”  
“It just means that you can’t say that I am untrustworthy.”  
“I still can.”  
“But you won’t.” I decided that I needed to know who was following us. Turning around I recognised the sleek black car and the driver. Crap! Turning back, to Mycroft and Sherlock, I receive questioning looks. “Just my brother.” I lean over and check Sherlock’s pockets to see if he picked up Seb’s gun. BINGO! “What are you doing with that?”  
“Skydiving.” I glare at Mycroft with his stupid question. I lean out the open car window. Sherlock moves away from the window knowing what I’m doing. I feel his hands on my thighs as I lean all the way back. My back leans against the outside of the car door as I aim at the tyres of the other car. BANG! BANG!  
Two bullets. 1 hit the front tyre of the car but the first bullet to go off was not from me. I hear the bullet as it hits the bone in my left shoulder. “AHH!” I feel two sets of hands pull me back into the car as my brothers car spins out of control.  
“Shit.” My vision is blurry as I try and look at who is putting pressure on my shoulder as the pain they are causing courses through my body.  
“Got to a hospital. NOW!” I recognise the voice as Mycroft’s and realise that it’s Sherlock who’s holding my arm as he puts pressure on my wound. "I knew you cared My." I felt my eye lids drooping.  
"Stay awake. You need to keep your eyes open.”  
“Sher-” I felt cold and empty before everything goes black and numb.


	10. Ouch

Sherlock’s POV  
I watched as (Y/N) passed out from blood loss. It looks like a shoulder wound at first glance but when you look closer the bullet had done a lot more damage. “JOHN!” I heard the static noise of John saying hello and now I was desperate.  
“Shit. Sherlock, where are you?”  
“Doesn’t matter. Get to St. Bart’s now. I need your help.” I hung up before John could say anything more.  
“Sherlock. We’re here.” I picked up (Y/N)’s body and ran to the A&E.  
“Sir. You- Oh god. Quick get her on the bed.” The nurse ran to get a doctor.  
“Don’t worry.” That moment John walked in. “He’s a doctor.” I pointed at John who was now confused.  
“Good enough.” The nurse grabbed John and John went white when he saw (Y/N)’s body.  
“She needs blood, NOW!” I watched as John went into his doctor mode. He removed her clothes so he could see the wound.  
“Shit. This is bad. Sherlock you’ve just become a nurse. Hand there.” John pointed to a spot just below the entrance wound. “Put all your strength there. It should cut off the blood flow from her veins.” I push down and see that the blood slows down.  
\----------------Time skip brought to you by the British Government himself--------------------------------------  
I sit down in the chair next to (Y/N). Her frame is smaller than usual and her skin is pale. “Sherlock. Have you slept?”  
“No.” I deadpan as I watch (Y/N)’s chest as it rises and falls in quick shallow breaths.  
“Here. You need to sleep but I know you won’t leave.” John passes me a blanket and a pillow.  
“Thank you John.” I hear his footfalls as he leaves but make no move to tempt sleep to my body.  
“Sherlock.” I hear (Y/N)’s voice as it groggily cuts back out. I look to her and see that her eyes are moving under her eyelids. Her body is becoming sweaty and she is tossing and turning in her sleep.  
“(Y/N).” I move over to her bed, grabbing her hand that doesn’t have an IV in. “It’s okay. I’m right here. Relax.”  
John’s POV  
I walk back realising that I had left my phone in (Y/N)’s room. I walk in and see Sherlock holding her hand. “It’s okay. I’m right here. Relax.” I stop and admire his caring personality. Something that I haven’t seen very often.  
“No... nach Gortaítear dó. No.” I watch as (Y/N) starts to toss in her sleep mumbling incoherent words that occasionally have recognisable words.  
“Tá mé anseo. Ní bheidh mé saoire do thaobh. Tóg go bog é.” I look to Sherlock realising that its because she isn’t speaking English that I don’t understand her, not because she is talking gibberish.  
“What did she say?” Sherlock looks to me. Tears evident in his eyes.  
“She said ‘No...don't hurt him. No.’ She’s speaking Irish mostly.”  
“What did you reply with?” He sighed.  
“I'm here. I will not leave your side. Relax.” I walked over putting my hand on his shoulder hoping that it would help to comfort him.  
“Thank you for helping John. It means a lot.” An apology?  
“Your welcome. Just take care of her.” He nodded and looked back to (Y/N).  
“Fhágáil dó féin!”  
“What did she just yell?” Sherlock was trying to calm her down.  
“Leave him alone.” He was still trying to make her relax when her screams split the air.  
“Fág dó James ina n-aonar! Uimh! Sherlock!” She bolted upright after waking up from her own screams. Sherlock immediately attempted to relax her. Now that she was awake he knew how.  
“Tá sé ceart go leor scíth a ligean go raibh sé ach aisling dona. Tá mé ceart anseo. Tóg go bog é.” (Y/N) cried into Sherlock’s shoulder as he hugged her close to him. Nurses started running in after hearing her scream.  
“Ní raibh sé ina aisling. James ag dul chun iarracht a dhéanamh agus tú a mharú. Tá a fhios agat cheana féin go. Ní raibh sé ina aisling. Tá sé cad ba mhaith aige a dhéanamh a thabhairt duit.” I watched the odd spectacle. Listening to Sherlock talking Irish was confusing.  
“Beidh sé a bheith ag maireachtáil ar dtús. Ní bheidh mé stad go dtí gur féidir sé a thuilleadh Gortaítear oiread duine againn. Ní féidir liom a dhéanamh vows. Gan ghnáth ach vow agam go mbeidh mé stop a chur leis. I ... Ba mhaith liom freisin a dhéanamh vow a thabhairt duit. vow mé a bheith mise go deo.” Her head shot up looking Sherlock straight in the eyes.  
“An bhfuil tú ag iarraidh mé chun pósadh tú?” Sherlock took a deep breath.  
“Yes” (Y/N)’s face went from fear to shock to joy.  
“Yes.” She kissed Sherlock and he kissed her back in a passionate moment.  
“Congratulations, brother mine.” Mycroft’s voice was genuine and his voice broke the other two apart.  
“Thanks.”  
\--------------  
“Leave him alone James! No! Sherlock!”  
“It's okay relax it was just a bad dream. I'm right here. Relax.”  
“It wasn't a dream. James is going to try and kill you. You already know that. It wasn't a dream. It's what he wants to do to you.”  
“He will have to live first. I will not stop until he can no longer hurt either of us. I don't make vows. Not usually but I vow I will stop him. I... I also want to make a vow to you. A vow to be yours forever.”  
“Are you asking me to marry you?”


	11. Now I Get It

“Sherlock, why did Mycroft say congratulations?” John was sitting in his chair while Sherlock was in his usual thinking position. Sherlock opened his eyes to look at John.  
“It’s be-” both looked to the door to the apartment to see Mycroft helping (Y/N) up the stairs.  
“Careful. I will not be catching you if you fall.” (Y/N) made it to the top of the stairs. Sherlock ran over to her wrapping her up in his arms in an embrace tight enough to show his love but light enough to not hurt her.  
“Hey Sher.” She wrapped her one good arm around his neck pulling him down a bit before she nuzzled her head into his neck.  
“It’s good to see you up and about (Y/N).” She nodded her head towards John. “Sherlock, you were telling me something?”  
“It can wait. I will tell you later but right now I want to spend time with me fiancé.”  
“Okay.” John walked over to (Y/N) giving her a hug before John realised what Sherlock had said. “Wait. Sherlock, you just said fiancé.”  
“Well heard John.”  
“I thought she was your girlfriend?”  
“Oh. You don’t speak Irish.” Sherlock put his head in his hand as he had just made an assumption. Mycroft sighed before answering John.  
“Sherlock proposed to her that night in the hospital.”  
“When?”  
“You were there doctor Watson. He asked in Irish.”  
“Oh. That explains a lot. Congrats you two.” John patted Sherlock on the back and got a proud smile from Sherlock for it. Mycroft helped (Y/N) to sit down on Sherlock’s chair as Sherlock had laid down on the couch. “I will leave you all to it.” Mycroft left but not until after handing something to Sherlock.  
“What have I missed?”  
“Sherlock went to Buckingham palace in just a sheet for the second time, I set up a date for tonight with Mary and that’s about it. No cases.” (Y/N) nodded.  
“Alright. Sherlock. You can now tell me why Mycroft is being so nice all of a sudden.” Sherlock smiled a really proud and giddy smile. “I won a bet.”  
“You need to tell more than just that.”  
“Well. I had told Mycroft ages ago that I had been thinking about proposing and he said it wouldn’t happen. That day we made a bet. I thought I would and that I would end up asking you in Irish because you had been talking in Irish. Mycroft believed that if it did happen I would not be able to talk fluent Irish without stuffing up. I won.” John and (Y/N) laughed at what had happened.  
“What was the prize for winning?” John’s question made (Y/N) stop laughing.  
“If I lost I had to be a slave for you and (Y/N) for the whole of July. If I won, Mycroft had to be kind to all three of us, Lestrade, Mrs Hudson and Molly as well as try sentiment for another human being and not cake.” All three laughed at the thought of Mycroft being human.  
“That was a good bet.” John admitted as they started to settle down.  
“So when are you going to get married?” Sherlock and (Y/N) looked between each other.  
“I have no idea.” Both laughed after managing to speak in unison.  
“Oh God. I’m going to have to put up with both of you. Shit.”  
“You already did John.” Sherlock stood up and moved to (Y/N).  
“True but now I know that you both speak Irish and I have no clue what you are saying when you do.” Sherlock picked (Y/N) up before sitting down with her in his lap.  
“Ar chóir dúinn a bheith deas dó agus ní labhairt i nGaeilge?” Sherlock smirked as he spoke fluent Irish and with an Irish accent.  
“Yes Sherlock. Don’t be mean to him until we have taught him how to speak Irish. Then we can all go out and insult Anderson and Donavon in Irish.”  
“We could do that anyway.” John was chuckling.  
“You sound very sexy with an Irish accent by the way Sher.” Sherlock had a sly smile wind up on his face.  
“Would you like me to do it more often?” Sherlock’s Irish accent was back.  
“No Sher. Unless you want to be a bisexual because I’m not the only one who is getting aroused by that.” Sherlock’s deep baritone chuckle filled the room.  
“As you say, (Y/N), called it.”


	12. Wake Up Call

Waking up to the embrace of warmth from Sherlock was comforting. The knowledge, however, that I wouldn’t be getting a hug anytime between us being ‘woken up’ and the early evening was horrifying. “Stop thinking.” Sherlock’s baritone voice was husky and deep with sleep. I couldn’t be bothered talking so just groaned at him.  
“You aren’t very social in the morning are you?” Sherlock chuckled sending vibrations into me as I rested my head on his chest.  
“Mmmm. Fuck off.” Sherlock laughed at my reaction.  
“You wouldn’t last until tonight if I did.” I went to make a comment when the bedroom door flung open. “You weren’t meant to be seeing each other at all today and you were meant to be separated last night. How did you two get in here?”  
Sherlock pointed at me. “Assassin.”  
Mary pointed at herself. “Assassin. How?”  
“Mary. Shush. My head hurts enough without you yelling.” I moved my head to look her in the eyes before placing it back on Sherlock’s chest.  
“I’m not yel- You’re hungover.” Mary walked over to the bed and pulled the sheets back to get me out of bed before she threw them back over us. “MYCROFT!”  
“Mary. Fuck sake. Shut. Up.” Nuzzling my head back into Sherlock’s chest, Mycroft walked in with John and Mrs Hudson. Sherlock tightened his arms around me and closed his eyes to try and go back to sleep.  
“How did they end up in here?” John’s voice was confused. I couldn’t be bothered looking at them so I joined Sherlock in trying to go back to sleep.  
“Sherlock says it is because she’s an assassin.”  
“You’re an assassin.” John to the judgement.  
“I said the exact same thing.”  
“Why did you call?”  
“They are both naked. You can deal with them.” I heard three sets of footfalls and a heavy sigh.  
“Brother mine, (Y/N). Please get out of bed. I really don’t feel like having to drag you both out.” Sherlock and I chuckled at the thought of Mycroft doing physical exertion.  
“Mm, no. Sleeping.” I chuckled at Sherlock’s response. I felt something grab my ankle and pull.  
“FUCK!” Sherlock had saved the sheet keeping him covered but now he was standing up with it around his shoulders. I was sat on the wooden floor at the end of the bed with the duvet covering me.  
“Both of you out. Now.”  
“Sherlock. Mycroft made me cold.” Sherlock laughed and came over to help me up. He wrapped the duvet around my shoulders and then we both walked out.  
“Sherlock. She has a bad enough habit with only wearing underwear. Don’t teach her anymore bad habits.” John looked exhausted.  
“Why are you so tired John?”  
“We were all looking for you two when you gave us the slip.” I turned to Sherlock.  
“I told you it would work. You owe me breakfast now.” Sherlock grumbled something before moving to his chair and sitting down.  
“Sherlock. Why aren’t you making (Y/N) breakfast?” John looked confused.  
“It’s 9:31. Her breakfast time isn’t for another 28 minutes and 26 seconds.” Sherlock’s voice was deadpanned.  
“How the fuck did you two give everyone the slip anyway?” Mary was sitting next to me on the couch as she asked us.  
“(Y/N).” I sighed.  
“When you were particularly interested in the bar, I told Mrs Hudson that I needed some fresh air. She said that was fine and came out with me. I then asked her if she could get me a glass of water. She went back in and all I had to do was walk down the street to see Mycroft and Sherlock talking.” I looked to Sherlock who continued the story of how he got away.  
“I just had to be myself for 3 minutes before Mycroft gave up and walked back to Lestrade and John.” Sherlock and I smirked.  
“Seriously? You both just walked off and no one noticed?”  
“I do believe that is what we are saying John. Keep up. You were all thinking we were going to do something mental and crazy to get away. Quite easy to get away.” I laughed because Sherlock was just looking so smug.  
“Anyway, come on you two. Sherlock can make you breakfast tomorrow but you two need to be separated now so that you two can get ready.”  
“But we don’t wanna.” Sherlock and I laughed hysterically as we spoke in unison.  
“They are way too similar.” Sherlock and I were now just smiling knowingly which caused John to stop what he was saying.  
“Sherlock. What time did you say it was going to happen?” Sherlock looked at his phone.  
“Now.” Smoke from the microwave, a small explosion from an experiment on the kitchen table and buckets of water tipping caused John and Mary to leave the flat in a hurry, dripping wet and smelling like the rotten eggs from the microwave. Mycroft however hesitated so that he could grab Sherlock and I by our ears and dragging us out of the flat with him, but we were too busy laughing to care.


	13. Evening In Hell

“Stop moving.” Mary was frustrated as I continued to move around in nervousness.  
“I can’t. I am nervous. Why am I nervous?” Moving again from the seat, Mary grabbed my arm and dragged me back.  
“Because you’re getting married. Now sit still or your make-up will look awful.” I huffed as I slouched into the seat.  
“That doesn’t help.” I looked to Mrs Hudson who was nearby with tears in her eyes.  
“Why are you crying? Why does everyone seem to be crying?” I threw my hands in the air and received a glare from Mary.  
“Because dear,” Mrs Hudson rubbed the tears from her eyes. “We all feel awful that you will have to put up with his antics for the rest of your life.” Mary and I laughed at her reply.  
“I think it’s the other way around. I feel bad for Sherlock.”  
“OI! I am right here.” I smirked and started to poke Mary repetitively.  
“(Y/N)! STOP! I WILL RUIN YOUR MAKE-UP!”  
“No you wouldn’t. You’re not that mean. When you apologise, I will stop.”  
“Fine. I’m sorry.” Mary continued working on my make-up and I sat as still as I could. “There. Done.” Mary moved out of the way and I could see myself in the mirror.  
“OMG! Thank you Mary!” I jumped up and hugged Mary trying to avoid smudging my make-up. I looked back in the mirror. The white silver of the eye shadow contrasting with the black eye liner and crimson lipstick. It looked beautiful and I was impressed. “I am grateful I didn’t have to do this. I would not have the patience.”  
“You didn’t have the patience to just sit there.”  
“I know. My point.” I smiled and grabbed the hair brush to start brushing my hair. “What should I do with my hair?” I looked to the two ladies that were near me.  
“How about a flower with curls?” I nodded my head in thought.  
“I don’t think I’d be able to do that Mary.” A smile crept onto her face. “Oh, no. Fine.” I handed her the brush and she got to work.  
After many pulls and tugs in the space of an hour, Mary took a photo from the back and showed me what she had done with my hair. “It’s beautiful.” I could feel a tear and tried to push it back before a water fall started.  
“All right. Come on. I want to see the finished product and,” Mary looked to her watch and quickly sprang into action. “You only have 10 minutes.” Mary held the dress open and I got in. As she zipped it up I couldn’t help but smile to myself. I’m getting married.  
“Hurry up you two. We are going to be late.” Mummy Holmes had walked in and saw Mary zipping up the dress  
“Isn’t it fashionable to be late?”  
“Not to your own wedding dear.” Mummy Holmes laughed as she and Mrs Hudson left to go sit in the crowd.  
\------Time skip because I can’t write mushy stuff for weddings------  
Sherlock’s POV  
Dancing with (Y/N) in my arms knowing that she was mine left an unusual feeling in my stomach. It was like a serene moment, but there was something foreboding about it. I remembered vaguely something John was saying when the date was set.  
“Do you think that is a good day to get married?” looking to John, there is concern and worry on his face.  
“Of course it is.”  
“It’s Friday the 13th, Sherlock. It is not a good day for anything.”  
“That’s all just superstitious crap. There is no such thing as luck.”  
The conversation plagues my mind but (Y/N) takes those thoughts away. “What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing.” (Y/N)’s face contorts as she thinks. Although not perfection in modern society, she is beautiful to an extent.   
“All right. You can tell me later.” A smirk crosses her features making me smile. The slow song ends abruptly and the dancing stops.  
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” I fix my gaze on Moriarty as he stands on the stage. “I would like to give you my formal regrets that the good night has to end.” A gun shot shatters a window at the back of the venue as another gunshot goes off near my ear. I turn to see John with a gun that’s been recently fired aimed at Moriarty, who falls back with a dark dot on his forehead.  
I turn to (Y/N) and see a sorrowful smile. “What?” I move closer to her and grab her hands that her over her stomach.  
“Be good.” As she opens her mouth, rivulets of crimson leave the corners of her mouth. I look down and see a hole through the white dress and crimson spreading outwards from there. (Y/N) starts to collapse, my arms wind around her waist pulling her into me before she falls. I collapse to the floor with her in my lap, eyes glazing over and face relaxed.  
“(Y/N).” I lean down to her ear, “I love you.”  
“I love you too Sherlock.” I feel her breathing stop and her weak pulse fades. I move back and see her gaze vacant. I can’t process what is going on. I remember bits. John forcing me away as he started CPR. Mycroft trying to comfort me. People crying. Then nothing.


End file.
